Tuesday, May 11, 2010


We (meaning Jeff) spend a lot of time cleaning up barf around here. About every other week one of the dogs (Shade or Charlie, not Georgie, she saves all her indiscretions for the urine variety), leaves a pile of unidentifiable "bleh" on the carpet (never the hardwoods - I'm pretty sure there is a rule in the Dog Book of Things to Never Do and number one is "barf in a convenient place like on a hardwood floor"). Sometimes we CAN identify the barf - like the time Shade barfed up a box of staples or a perfectly formed (and completely dry) rubber band ball. But usually it's just a pile of ick and Jeff dutifully cleans it up and then does a thorough carpet cleaning, leaving behind no trace of the offense. Tonight it was a kids' turn. Arlie felt suddenly sick and not long after made a mad dash to the bathroom, but alas, did not make it and thus Jeff spent several minutes cleaning up partially digested watermelon. Oh the joys! I remember when I was young, my mom and dad split up barf duty - one of them handled the mess while the other handled the kid (I can't remember now who did what, but I'm pretty sure my dad cleaned up the mess because I remember my mom yelling at me for not making it to the toilet - that was like a cardinal sin, worse even than saying the F word!). I grew up fearing barf like no one's business. I would do anything NOT to barf, even, I'm ashamed to say, sell my soul to the Devil (not that I ever had to, but what if Satan himself had come ready to make a deal?). Even today, I HATE to barf, it's the worst out-of-control feeling watching your body being taken over by heaving waves of nausea and spewing stomach contents in a violent gush. Even childbirth, which is when some sort of evil spirit possesses you, making you writhe and moan and scream things like "You did this to me!" and grab the collar of the night janitor demanding that he take this THING out of you NOW, pales by comparison when it comes to the violent "taking over" that is barfing.

Which brings me to a memory.....one time my brother and I made a list of all the ways one refers to "barf".....and it was quite a list! I kept it for years, I may even still have it, but I can recall some of them here: vomit, technicolor yawn, driving the porcelain school bus, selling Buicks, spewing, tossing cookies, losing your lunch, ralph, yak, throw up, praying to the porcelain god, hurling. That's all I got for now. Feel free to add some!

P.S. Thank you, God, for the Little Green Clean Machine. Amen.

1 comment:

jeff said...

Lets get Bissel to pay for an add on your blogg?:)